


His Hero

by Timeforelfnonsense



Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: A little spicy, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timeforelfnonsense/pseuds/Timeforelfnonsense
Summary: As striking as she was it wasn’t her beauty alone that drew him to her. Rather it was the cocktail of boldness and brilliance she had exhibited in their short acquaintance. Her mind was sharp and quick to collaborate. In the heat of battle, her voice never wavered. He had watched in awe as she conjured roaring thunder and icy lighting. Weaving each spell together in a fearsome tempest. Raining down elegant destruction on Ragzlin’s perverse throne room. Ending the leader’s tyrannical grip on the coast with one precise strike of crackling electricity.
Relationships: Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate), Wyll (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	His Hero

Criella looked absolutely radiant. Her long straight lilac hair hung loose and lovely down the long line of her back. Her spiraling, rosewood colored horns dressed in chains of silver and charms of luminous crystal. Her slender arms were free of their normal leather coverings revealing a tattoo of elegantly scrawled infernal that pulsed with arcane iridescence. 

_Innovate_

A fitting descriptor.

As striking as she was it wasn’t her beauty alone that drew him to her. Rather it was the cocktail of boldness and brilliance she had exhibited in their short acquaintance. Her mind was sharp and quick to collaborate. In the heat of battle, her voice never wavered. He had watched in awe as she conjured roaring thunder and icy lighting. Weaving each spell together in a fearsome tempest. Raining down elegant destruction on Ragzlin’s perverse throne room. Ending the leader’s tyrannical grip on the coast with one precise strike of crackling electricity. 

“Enjoying your evening?” She asked, handing him a tankard of honeyed ale.

“There she is- the woman herself.” Let us raise a glass! Wyll chuckled, clicking the edge of his cup with her own goblet of red wine, “To freedom from tyranny! May we hew a path for the downtrodden to travel. To you a legend in the making! And of course to us. May our bond only grow stronger.” 

“Quite the toast.” She stated, casually bringing the silver goblet to her soft, quirked lips, “Are you coming on to me, Wyll?”

Wyll shivered at the feeling of the heart-shaped tip of her tail training up his spine. The curing white lines of her facial tattoos crinkling as she arched an expectant, manicured brow. 

“I hadn’t imagined myself so subtle?” He said, glancing up at her over the foam of his ale. A subtle grin curling across his lips, eyebrows ever so slightly raised, “Or to put it another way: yes.” Criella’s tail wrapped itself loosely around his waist a coy smile of her own working its way across her stunning features. Her silver eyes were nearly opalescent in the warm, gingery fire’s glow. Wyll pressed his lips to the slightly angled shell of her ear, speaking in a voice smooth as silk, “Your heart beats strong, friend. The Blade rarely seeks partnership.”

Criella’s hold on his midsection tightened as the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. The timbre of his voice felt like a hot beverage on a cool morning. Warming her from the tips of her fingers to the depths of her belly. It had been ages since she’d felt that sort of pull towards another being. Her heart dropped a bit as the memory of standing beside Zoria in a Neverwinter temple entered her mind. She had looked so beautiful, dressed in her gown of chiffon and net. The Ivory fabric standing in perfect contrast with her violet skin. 

Criella had been profoundly hurt when her best friend announced she was not only to be wed to her latest sweetheart but that she’d be leaving Waterdeep with her. It had felt like a betrayal. They had built something special together. Something so unique that Criella had sacrificed her own desires to pursue something deeper to preserve it. And Zoria was going to throw it all away. Yes, she had been mad but that all fell away when she saw the love Zoria had for her bride. She loved Zoria and loving her meant wanting to see her happy even if it was with someone else. The passage of time had softened the sting of losing her. It became easier and easier to write to her in the past few years. She even had begun to enjoy hearing about her wife and the sweet life they had made for themselves in Neverwinter. 

The experience had stung but it had taught her that hiding her feelings away was not necessarily the best course of action. Who could say if things would have worked out differently had she voiced her feelings? Regardless, it was not a mistake she’d be making twice. Wyll was a good man. She admired his tactical mind. His plan to take on the goblins had been clean and clever. He had fought for people whom he had no loyalties or connection to. Not because they had offered him gold or glory, but because they needed help. A fond smile played at her lips as she pictured Wyll with his tiefling charges, so gentle and patient. She’d practically melted on sight when she found him sparing amongst the children. 

Wyll was the sort of man she’d imagined into fairy stories as a brave king or gallant knight. An uncharacteristically wistful sight fell from her lips, causing her baby pink cheeks to grow a deep strawberry. Gods he was handsome! With a strong, noble countenance. Yet, there was a bit of ruggedness to his stubbled jaw that added a certain something to his charms. 

“Are you propositioning me, Blade?” She purred careful not to bump him with her horns as she placed her head on his broad shoulder. 

“If I were?” Wyll asked. 

“I would be incredibly flattered.” she assured, tilting her gaze up at him, “And happily accept.” 

“In that case, I reckon our union might continue to your bunk tonight.” Wyll beamed placing a feather-light kiss on her temple. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he added, “ Or I suppose we could just start out here like those two.” Wyll nudged her hip with his own, pointing a discreet finger towards their elven compatriots. 

“Now that _is_ an idea!” Criella laughed. However, her amusement curdled as she watched Dafni’s hand travel ever closer to the front of Astarion’s breeches, “But, I think we’d best spare these poor people another...display.”

“You’re probably right.” He agreed, his hand reaching up to stroke the delicate line of her cheek, “But, I’d like to kiss you. Something to tide me over until the party winds down.” 

Criella lifted her head from his shoulder with an eager look. Wyll took her chin between his sword-calloused fingers, tilting her rosy face toward his lips. The moment their mouths brushed the world spun to a halt. She tasted of cherry wine and rosewater. The tip of her tongue sliding across the inner edge of his lip coaxing a soft gasp forward. Wyll wrapped one hand around her waist, his fingers gently pressing into her hip. The other laced through the waterfall of lavender hair, soft as satin as in his grasp. His heart thumped loudly in his own ears at the feeling of her warm palms sliding against his chest. A dull ache began behind his eye. A flash of bronze hair and moonlight skin tearing through his mind. 

Wyll stumbled back ending the heart-stopping embrace, “Pardon, just a bit woozy…”

“That’s alright. Do you still want to meet later?”

“Definitely.” Wyll nodded twirling a stray lock of hair around his index finger, “I’ll meet you at your bunk when you’re ready. I trust I won’t have to wait long.”

  
  


As soon as the party dwindled to its embers, Criella practically skipped back to her tent, a smile fixed on her face. As she pushed the heavy lavender canvas back she took a quick stock of her surroundings. She kept her quarters tidy enough but spick and span did not necessarily correlate with romantic. Perhaps she could light some candles? Criella’s lower lip caught in her sharp teeth. It wasn’t like her to feel like a giddy green lass! She was a woman of confidence and ambition. Her affections had always manifested as quite longings rather than whimsical, girlish fancies. Then again, she’d never been kissed in such a breathtaking manner before.

Criella brushed the tips of her index and middle fingers across the plush flesh of her lips shivering as she felt the ghost of Wyll’s astounding kiss. He tasted of ale and smelled of campfire and sweet earth. Criella had been a firm believer that first kisses were more often than not dreadfully awkward but he had proven her dead wrong. She could have even been coaxed to reconsider her stance on public displays of desire, were it not for the strange sharpness that pried them apart.

She felt a phantom throb behind her eyes. Who was that? She’d caught the glimpse of a face in Wyll’s mind as their thoughts slipped together. Bronze hair glowing in a fiery halo, flawless skin the color of the moonlight, her lips impossibly pink but the finer details of her appearance remained obscured by a fog of uncertainty. After a moment of concentration, she came to the conclusion that It didn’t matter who she was. Criella had never been the jealous sort and she had no intention of starting now. Wyll was a charming, attractive gentleman; she hadn’t deluded herself into thinking his affections had never belonged to another, nor did she mind that they had. What mattered was the here and now. And in the here and now Wyll wanted her. 

With that sorted, she shifted her focus to the matter at hand. She kicked off her boots before peeled away the soft leather of her leggings carefully folding and tucking them away. She loosened the laces of her green blouse allowing it to hand loose and casual from her narrow shoulders. With a stylish flick of her hand, she projected her mirror image. She shifted her weight to her right foot, her hip popping out slightly as her hand came to rest on its peak. 

“You are still glowing from battle. On my honor, you’ve never looked more beautiful.” Wyll’s warm voice filled the tent wrapping around her half-dressed body like a lover’s embrace. He approached her with slow, sure steps but his eyes flickered with a gentle want that set a fire between her thighs. 

Once more, Wyll pulled her close, their lips meeting in a deep sensual kiss. Criella’s palms pressed against his firm chest taking up a handful of his dark cotton shirt as she pulled him closer. His fingers found their way to her hair, his nails skimming lightly across her scalp. Criella cupped his cheek, thumb running along his scarred cheek. 

Wyll winced, pulling back from her kiss once more. Before she could ask what was wrong the needling pain behind her eye retired once more along with the mysterious woman. Her dazzling smile turned razor-sharp. Horns pushed their way through her ginger hair. Her creamy complexion shifting to a steely blue as two great, leather wings spreading out from her proud shoulders. 

A Cambion.

There was no mistaking it. This woman was Wyll’s patron, she was certain. Criella tried to hold her image in her mind, searching for any defining features or giveaways of her nature but Mizora’s wicked grin cut through her thoughts like a knife forcing her to look away. 

“Damnit. Must she ruin everything?” Wyll muttered bringing his palm to his stone eye to rub away the discomfort. “I’m sorry it's not supposed to be this way.”

“That was her, wasn’t it? Mizora.” 

Wyll’s shoulders slumped, hand still guarding his eye, “Yes. Wherever she’s gone she still haunts me. A ghost in all but name. Sometimes I swear I can smell her- sulfur and orchids. Stops my heart just to think of it. I thought I could forget Mizora. Just for one night. Gods, how wrong I was. “

Criella’s lips turned up into a soft smile as she pulled Wyll’s guardian palm from his face. Her voice was warm and sure as she spoke, “I understand Wyll, as well as I am able at least. Why don’t you spend the night beside me? No sex just sharing each other's company, hm?”

“I’d like that.”

Criella guided him down to her woolen bedroll by the arm. Wyll’s head came to read against her chest as she gently rubbed the tension from his strong, reliable shoulders. He let out a sigh as her nimble fingers worked at a perpetually tight spot near his collarbone. 

“I’d forgotten what it’s like to feel safe.” He confessed, warm whisky brown eyes meeting her’s. “I’m used to being the hero. Not so used to needing one.”

“It must be hard,” She mused in a musical tone, hands still working the stubborn muscle, Looking out for everyone else all the time. Devoting yourself to helping others. That’s a heavy burden for one man to carry. You are allowed to have a few moments for yourself. Besides, you’ll always be a hero to me, Wyll.”

“It means so much to hear those words from you.” He sighed, warping his hand gently around her wrist, I wish I could give you something more in return. My flesh at least. Something deeper were you to ask it. But only a free man can give himself fully. Until my pact is broken... I’m never free.”

“You will be rid of her one day. Sooner than you might think too.” She winked, tossing her loose hair with a flick of her tail, “You have my aid now after all! I’m somewhat of an expert on the Hells, Cania in particular, but I have a fair knowledge of the other eight as well. I’m no stranger to the politics and schemes of devils and there is nothing I can’t do once my mind is set to it. “

Wyll pressed his lips in a soft kiss to the sensitive skin on her inner wrist before pressing her palm to his steadily beating heart. “You are a blessing, Wit.”


End file.
